#honestly i usually prefer their natural hair color

[linoguy]

orange brown hair lee know you will always be my favorite gender

[ariasakka]

Nanami in bed 18+ MNDI

3k words. Female reader.

Spoiler he’s a simp for poc women

All nanami stories by me will be under the hashtag NanamiAria

Soft dom Nanami

Nanami would be a soft dom. Loves giving you lots of prep for him. Lots of sushing. Sushing if you squirm too much. Sushing if you become overstimulated. He wants to be the one who does all the work. He doesn’t want you to move just stay still and take his gentle love making. He won’t let you lift a finger. If it becomes a bit too much he’ll gently push your limits staying in slightly longer each time to build your stamina. I see him as someone who can last a long time and like long sessions so he will try to slowly and gently build you up to his level.

Occasionally rough fucks you and degrades you slightly when you tease him too much or when he’s had an extra rough day at work. He prefers to be gentle but when you push his buttons too many times you’ll find yourself bent over his desk, dicked down with no preparation. Immediately after a rough session he’ll go back to being sweet. Leaving soft kisses over your whole body. Pulling you in for a hug or cuddles. Saying things like “are you alright love?, You’re perfect., I love you darling.”.

He likes being the provider the one to do all the work so he would prefer being with someone submissive in the bedroom. If you were a top he would let you grind on him a bit but after a few mines Kento would grab your hips, ending up taking charge, being the one bouncing you up and down on him. He’s never aggressive about needing to be the one in charge it’s just in his nature I don’t think he would even realize he’s like this often times.

Nanami experience level

Not that experienced probably has only been with three people tops. Probably hates casual sex or one night stands. Despite his low experience Kento fucks like he’s a porn star quite literally. He can last forever if he wants to, even cum on command. Always knows the right words to say to get you off too it’s like it was scripted but it wasn’t. Love making just comes naturally to him.

You’d think based on his professional quiet composure that he doesn’t think about sex often but that would be a lie. I think he’s quite hyper sexual. Though he would try to match whatever sex drive you had out of respect. To get off when he’s not in a relationship or when you’re not around I don’t see him being the type of guy to watch porn. I see him reading smutty novels. He honestly reads them quite often. As sort of a guilty pleasure. Thats probably where he learned his skills and pillow talk from.

Nanami’s taste in women

Everybody headcannons him as liking women of color. I 100% agree! He loves tan skin, olive skin, dark skin, dark hair, long hair, wavy hair, curly hair, braids, straight hair. Hispanic women, black women, Asian women, mixed women, he loves it all. He would be captivated by some woman that doesn’t look like the usual girl he sees walking around town. He’s never really liked a white girl before especially if they’re blonde because it reminds him too much of himself. He doesn’t realize this consciously he’s always just liked who he’s liked in his eyes. I see him getting turned on everytime you get a tan. Everytime he sees the contrast of your tan skin next to his pale tone. It makes him want to eat you quite literally. He’ll use any excuse he can to drag you down to the beach with him to see your skin glow and grow darker under the sun. Also as an excuse to see you in the new bikini he secretly bought for you. If his woman wore a bonnet he would find it adorable whenever you had one on. He would often buy you new ones that are the highest quality silk in your favorite colors to spoil you. He’s obsessed with dark hair. Doesn’t matter if it’s straight, curly, wavy, braided, coily. He loves it all. You’ll often times find Nanami sneaking up behind you to smell your hair or finding any excuse he can to run his fingers through your locks/touch your hair. He’s quite literally obsessed with all of you. If you were from a different culture he would get turned on everytime you cooked him meals that you grew up with or spoke your native language. He would learn how to speak your Native language secretly to surprise you. Especially as a cute way to propose and a sneaky way to spice up things the bedroom. He would do little things to learn more about your culture overtime to feel closer to you and get to know you better. I see him liking curves on your bottom half. Such as thick thighs, juicy bottom. Definitely more of an ass man. I don’t see him caring if someone has a big chest or not it’s just something that’s either there or isn’t. He’ll cherish whatever body shape you bless him with.

Body hair preferences.

He literally does not give a single fuck what you do with your body hair. He’s obsessed with you no matter what. Nothing will stop him from eating you out. Pubes. He loves you bald, trimmed, different patterns, landing strip, bush. He will love and cherish whatever you have whenever you have it simply because it’s you. Other body hair. He doesn’t care if you shave or not. I think he’d be used to someone who did shave their body hair but wouldn’t tell you what to do. Hes a grown man he doesn’t find body hair to make someone any more or less attractive. I do think he would probably be with someone who preferred to remove all their body hair and preferred him to have some specifically just because I see him being with someone more feminine and traditional. Traditional fem women seem like the type prefer those things at least to me.

For himself I see him having light chest hair and leaving it untouched. Lightly trimming his underarm hair. For his pubes I see him leaving them trimmed, preferring just a little something on his skin. If you asked otherwise for him to be bald or bush he would do whatever you asked to please you.

Nanami dad

Everyone headcannons him as wanting children but personally I would think he’d be scared of that. He would find children to be cute yes but at the end of the day he wouldn’t want his children growing up in a world they ultimately just have to work a stressful 9-5 and probably overtime in. He doesn’t like work he just does it because he has to. He knows he would have to work more if he had a kid and wouldn’t be able to spend the time he wanted with his family. He wouldn’t want to curse a kid with that life.

Regardless of kids he would ask you to quit your job and let him be the provider. He doesn’t want you to feel the same stress he does over work. I think pregnancy would worry him too much. He’d hate how hard it was on a woman’s body. He’d constantly think something bad would happen to you because he’d spend too much time on the internet trying to learn every possibility of something that could happen to stay ahead of it. I do think he has a kink for cuming inside you so he would most likely get a vasectomy so no accidents happen. If you really wanted children he would fuck you silly and remind you with his words how you wouldn’t be able to take him like this often if you were pregnant or busy with kids. When he’s finished with that he’ll buy you a cat instead to keep you occupied and hopefully for you not to ask again or he’ll buy another cat. I see him being a big cat person. Seeing you take care of the cats just doing simple things like that turns him on a lot.

Jealous Nanami

He tries not to be too possessive or jealous. He’s a grown man and understands a woman can live her own life, have her own friends, and what not. Though he tries his hardest to be good but he’s such a jealous man. He tries his best not to show his jealousy thinking it’ll turn you off. Not knowing that you’d actually love that side of him. Everytime you come back from an outing that he didn’t attend he missed your attention so much he’ll fuck you till your dick drunk off of him hoping you’ll feel so good and spoiled from him that you won’t leave again without him anytime soon. Any time you’re out together and a man looks at you he grips you tighter. It makes him want to take you to the nearest restroom, pin you up against the wall, fuck you passionately with love, while he begs you to tell him he’s the only man for you. He’s not insecure he knows you won’t leave or cheat. He also likes when men look at you he likes seeing their eyes shine at you then gaze up to him and realize they can’t have you. He still get’s so jealous from it though he can’t really understand why.

Nanami turn ons.

Doing domestic things turns him on a lot. Such as bringing him lunch, making him coffee,

cleaning, doing laundry. He likes it more than you wearing lingerie especially if you’re doing your chores wearing his shirt. Not that he thinks a woman has to do the domestic labor but he is old fashioned and traditional so he prefers traditional roles. He sees you doing these things as a sign of love and care. He also does the household duties when he has time off of work if there’s anything that needs to be done. Knowing you get to relax while he takes care of a household duty turns him on. You’ll often find him dragging you into the shower with him to fuck you silly when he’s finished mowing the lawn, or mopping the floors. He especially loves it when he comes home to find you doing something you love like cooking. When you’re cooking one of his favorite meals he’ll often eat you as the main course first as a way to say thank you for spoiling him.

He would never admit it but loves when you’re bratty on occasion because it gives him an excuse to bend you over his knee. He loves when you talk back without a care like you don’t know he’ll quickly put you in place. Nanami loves when your bratty self teases him while he’s at work. Weather it being you sending him pictures, videos, or you showing up and getting down on your knees under his desk toying with his waistband.

Husband Nanami

He loves being a husband. He would get married quickly. When he finds the right woman he doesn’t see the need to wait. He’s a hopeless romantic. Just being married turns him on. Knowing you have his last name, knowing he gets to take care of you from now on, it drives his mind wild. Anytime you casually call him husband or remind him that you’re his wife his member perks up instantly.

Nanami dirty talk

“Shh shh look at me love I have to break you in or you’ll never be able to take me. Just let it sit here I won’t thrust alright.

“Shh I told you to let me love”

“You’re so beautiful when I’m inside of you love. I always love how you let me take my time with you.”

“I’m so glad i met you. I feel so spoiled having such a sexy wife. Maybe i should spoil you with my tongue?”

“Shh hold still my love. Relax.”

“I love you darling. That’s right. I love it when it’s all the way inside your pretty walls”

“Yes that’s it love, let it out. Dont you dare hold back those moans from your husband.”

Kinks

I see him as old fashioned. Not super kinky. If being a care giver (not age play just like being the protector and provider) and a top in bed is a kink you can count that. Also finishing inside of you. Not sure if thats a kink but he has to finish inside of your pussy. He loves the feeling it gives both of you. On the rare occasions you last long enough for him to finish twice he’s in heaven. He’s obsessed with you being filled with him. He pulls back up your panties after and lifts up slightly to push his cum further inside you he doesn’t want anything dripping out of you. He wants it to sit inside of you for the rest of the day/night so that every time you feel filled you remember the sweet love he made to you. I see him enjoying spanking. Bending you over his knee when you’ve been bratty. Or slapping your ass while he fucks you from behind. Eyes winding and mouth watering with he sees you grow wet/wetter from his slaps. Aside from that I see him liking to use his tie to occasionally tie your hands behind your back. Mainly when you’ve been bratty and he wants to fuck you rough. Aside from that at most he would probably use a vibrator on you if you wanted/needed but would prefer to use himself.

Name calling

I don’t think he would be into much name calling. I mean maybe he would be into daddy or sir? Though I see him being softer I could see him having a darker side to him and liking it. But I think he would probably prefer you to names like; love, my darling, husband, baby, both in an out of bed. He would like calling you the same names in an out of bed as well.

Nanami receiving

He loves getting his dick sucked. Groaning at the sound of you lubing him up for your hole. He loves guiding your movements with his hands tangled in your lucious hair. Though he loves this he doesn’t like cuming in your mouth he prefers to cum down your cunny instead. He has a lot of stamina and control so he can prevent himself from cumming down your throat waiting until he uses your other hole.

Thats about the most receiving he likes the rest of the time he’d rather do all the work. Even though technically while you’re sucking him he still doing all the work by being the one to guide all your movements and telling you what to do.

Nanami moaning?

He’ll give soft grunts and moans occasionally. He’ll softly moan and grunt or pant heavily when he finishes inside you. He’s more of a talker than a moaner In my opinion. He loves whispering sweet things into your ears and sushing you quite often. He loves the sound of your moans he doesn’t Sush as a sign to be quiet but more as a sign to “take it” and also out of habit. He’s so used to saying “shh” he sort of does it out of instinct instead of moaning.

All nanami stories by me will be under the hashtag NanamiAria

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Starry Eyes

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

“Starry eyes

What can I do for your attention.”

Summary: Theodore’s late to class but Snape blessed him with the opportunity of sitting next to a cute Ravenclaw who’s no help at all.

1 >

--------------------

Clockwise or counterclockwise? 

You honestly didn’t even know anymore. No matter how many hours you spent on reading the thick potions textbook or wasting bottles after bottles of ink on notes you still barely passed the class. 

You were starting to get a headache from trying to picture the text in your head. Everything was starting to become foggy. You sat down, defeated, and began doodling on the parchment instead of writing detailed instructions on how to make the stupid potion. So much for a Ravenclaw. 

Hmm off shoulder or puffed sleeves?

 You bit your lip trying to decide which option would look better on the dress you sketched out. The classroom was calming with little chattering among your classmates in the back allowing you to work easier. You could never work or do anything in silence, it drove you crazy. 

Suddenly the door slammed open causing you to jump a bit in your seat. 

“Nice of you to join us Mr. Nott, although your presence was expected half an hour ago,” Snape drawled out in his infamous monotone voice. 

“Sorry I overslept,” he shrugged while adjusting his tie. Some students who were listening in laughed. With his messed up tie and ‘burn marks’ on his neck, it was clear that he was definitely doing more than just sleeping. 

Snape nodded and pointed at the empty seat next to you, not surprising anyone that he didn’t take away any house points from his house. 

Theodore eyed you as he walked towards your table. He would’ve preferred sitting with his house, but he could never pass up the chance to sit next to a pretty girl. White blouse with a lace neckline and sleeves, black plaid skirt, Ravenclaw tie, black sleek hair, and a white headband. You didn’t fit into the usual type of girls he went for, but you were cute. 

Theodore took the seat next to you before tapping on your shoulder. 

You turned to him and almost jumped when you found his eyes on you. Gorgeous blueish grayish eyes. 

So pretty, this might be my new favorite color. 

“So uh,” Theo cleared his throat ignoring the fact that he swore he just saw your eyes sparkle, “what are we doing?” 

You blinked. Under the pressure of a somewhat attractive boy it made your memory much worse. 

“Umm, we’re brewing a potion and writing?” 

You had hoped that didn’t come out as a question and hoped that he’d just nod and ask someone else. 

Theodore raised an eyebrow and glanced at your blue tie again. 

“Which potion exactly?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were lying to him. 

“Antidote to potions. Wait, no poisons. The common one. Wait, maybe the uncommon ones. Well I don’t think there’s a big difference. I mean, shouldn’t the uncommon ones be stronger and still fix the common ones?” You rambled on, looking off to the side lost in your own thoughts. 

Theodore blinked. The sorting hat rarely makes errors, maybe you were high but then again Lovegood’s also a Ravenclaw. The looney population in Ravenclaw must be high. 

“Why can’t they just make a super strong potion that fixes every poison? That’d make our jobs easier and we wouldn’t have to memorize so many potions,” you giggled as you turned back to your sketches. 

Theodore looked over your shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of your paper but instead your sketches caught his eye. You may be no help in potions, but you sure can draw. 

“Are you going to make that?” He asked while you squirmed at the close proximity of his face to yours. 

“Yes,” you mumbled shyly, scared of the criticism that might follow. You loved designing and fashion. It was one of the only things that came naturally to you, but coming from a family of doctors you were vulnerable to criticism for not following in their path. 

“Cute,” he said before his eyes found your potions paper. 

Common poisons. Theodore noticed that you only had half the page completed and chuckled. 

He got up towards the ingredients cabinet and grabbed his ingredients and the ones you were missing. 

Potions came easy to him. Not only did the teacher bias his house, but his mother was a skilled potions maker as well. Matter of fact her entire side of the family were. He had spent most of his summers in his manor reading journals of potion experiments and advanced information that weren’t even in his school textbooks. 

He quickly prepared his ingredients and started on his potion while continuing yours on the side. Luckily you were both in the back and Snape couldn’t catch him. He wrote down his notes and instructions making a mental note to tell you to copy them down later. You’d need it. 

Maybe he was also placed in the wrong house. Today, Hufflepuff seemed more fitting. You were lucky that you’re cute. 

[chericos]

Curled Around Your Finger ꩜ .ᐟ

M. Fushiguro x curly-haired!(implied black!)reader

Inspired by @/just-jordie-things

Megumi Fushiguro loves your hair.

(Not like it was any secret) Granted, he loves every part of you. It’s not like your physical features are attributed to his reasons for loving you. But it is a WELL known fact among your peers that Megumi is borderline obsessed with anything relating to your hair.

Any chance he gets he’s carding his hand through your locks and curling them around his finger. You could be anywhere, doing anything, and he will find (or make) a reason to play with your curls. It’s like second nature.

In his defense, he has a constant need to touch you. Whether you're cuddled up during a movie night, placing his hand over yours while sitting on a bench, or—even with his disdain for pda—linking pinkies while walking through crowded areas. It’s not his fault his hands tend to migrate to your hair naturally. (he knows what he’s doing)

And it’s not like you were none the wiser either. You saw how his eyes were trained on your hair when sitting on the train together. You felt the way his fingers softly massage your scalp while you rested your head on his chest. You even heard the way he’d hum with a dopey grin on his face as he braided and twisted small sections during breaks.

So that’s why it’s no surprise when he offers (follows you) to come to the hair supply store with you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The bustling streets of Tokyo felt alive with the energy of the afternoon rush, but for Megumi Fushiguro, it was just another errand he had committed to. You walked next to him, hand in hand, and a skip in your step as you made your way downtown. Megumi turns his head to look down at you. The midsummer sunlight kissed your face, making you look radiant, he wondered how you always looked even prettier than the last time he saw you.

Your smile brightened as you reached out to give his hand a squeeze before releasing it. The beauty supply store came into view, a colorful beacon amidst the sea of grey buildings. The large windows displayed a myriad of hair products, tools, and accessories, promising solutions for every hair type and problem.

"Thanks for coming with me, Gumi," you said, glancing up at him. "I know it's not really your thing."

"It's fine," Megumi replied, his usual stoic expression softening slightly when he looked at you. "I wanted to spend some time with you anyway."

It's a relatively quiet affair. The only noise came from the other few scattered patrons and the muffled hum of music playing through the speakers. But his eyes follow you like a hawk. He was taking a mental note of every product you grab and storing it in the back of his mind for later.

If anyone were to ask, he would just say he was doing “what any good boyfriend would do”—which is true, but honestly, he just wanted to be useful. In the case at any point, you need to refill on something, you could depend on him to go in your stead.

"Alright, first on the list is leave-in conditioner," you said, walking towards one of the aisles as he followed silently behind you. You crouched down to reach your go-to hair brand, Megumi watched as you picked up different bottles, reading the labels and ingredients carefully. He always admired how knowledgeable you were about what your hair needed, and the way you seemed to navigate the store with ease.

"Do you have a preference for scents?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence, and surprising you with his question.

"Not really," you replied, smiling at his interest. "As long as it works well and doesn't clash with my other products, I'm happy."

You handed him a bottle. "What do you think about this one?"

Megumi took it, sniffing the open cap. "It smells nice. Light and fresh.”

"Perfect," you said, adding it to your basket. "Next, I need a good gel. Something that will define my curls without making them crunchy."

As you continued your search, Megumi stayed close, shadowing you like an eager puppy. He occasionally picks up products, asking for your opinion on them. You explained the difference between various types of gels, creams, oils, and what brands you do and don’t support, and he listened intently, making sure to memorize your hair care routine.

"Do you always use so many products?" he asked as you compared two different gels.

"Pretty much," you replied with a small laugh. "Curly hair can be high maintenance, but I love it. It's a part of who I am. Especially after everything I've been through regarding it."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I like your curls. They suit you."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thanks, Gumi!"

After picking out a gel that met your criteria, you moved on to accessories. You browsed through hair ties, clips, scarves, and headbands, holding up different options for Megumi's opinion. He offered his thoughts, telling which colors go best with your complexion and what style would fit your aesthetic.

Finally, you reached the checkout, your basket full of new products and accessories. As you placed everything on the counter, Megumi stepped forward, pulling out his wallet.

"Let me," he said, and before you could even think of protesting, he had already gone and paid for everything.

"Megumi, you didn't have to do that," you said, touched by his gesture.

"I wanted to," he replied simply.

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Well, thank you. I really appreciate it."

Megumi insisted on carrying your shopping bags, gently taking them from your hands with a firm yet kind expression. "You shouldn't have to carry anything if I'm with you," he said, his voice resolute. As you left the store, bags in hand, you felt a sense of contentment. The streets of Tokyo were still crowded, and you ended up linking your arm around Megumi’s to not get separated.

While you both walked back to the dorms you turned a corner, and noticed a quaint coffee shop with large, inviting windows and a cozy ambiance. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted out onto the sidewalk.

"Want to grab a coffee before we head back?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"Sure," he agreed, a rare smile playing on his lips. "I'd like that."

The two of you walked side by side, the bustling city around you feeling a little bit quieter, a little bit more peaceful. In that moment, you knew that it wasn't just about the beauty supply store or the products you'd bought. It was about the time spent together, the small acts of care and understanding that strengthened your bond.

As you sipped your coffee and chatted about everything and nothing, you felt grateful for Megumi and the way he made even the most mundane of tasks feel special. And with your new hair products in tow, you knew that your curls—and your heart—were in good hands.

I’m a sucker for curly hair…

also, I find that each time I write I start blanking out when it comes to dialogue. Idk I can never seem to get it down right 😞

@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate, or plagiarise my works

[cod-sins]

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Undisclosed

[A/N: I didn't proofread this so if you see a mistake no you did not.]

[Edit: I can't seem to add a read more option fellow mobile users I am so sorry]

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. I see König standing at a whopping 6'10 (because I say so) meaning he's a big guy. He has trouble finding clothes that fit his size (especially pants). He gets alot of his civilian clothes tailored or he just has his Oma [ :')] do it for him. I imagine he wears a size 49 in European shoes (16 for Americans) and he prefers boots and sneakers instead of sandals and loafers. His usual outfits include plain colored tees, a jacket (usually dark colors; black, navy blue, hunter green), sweatpants [show off that dickprint] and combat boots. König doesn't wear his hood out in public, so he settles for black or blue surgical masks. He doesn't want to draw anymore attention to himself so dressing casual is his way to go. He's got big meaty thighs and hard abs with a sharp prominent v-line (mwah) to tie it all together.

‣. König has a cleft lip! It's on the right side of his mouth, he hated it as a child but grew up to realize it was apart of him. He has scars on his forearm from a hostile trying to slash him. They run deep and it was a pretty painful experience for him (he hates talking about it and he tries to wear long sleeved clothes but sometimes the weather ends up winning). He also has a bullet scar on his thigh as well. He keeps his nails short except one or two just in case he needs to pick something or scratch. I imagine his hair to be a soft strawberry blonde color. Something like this, this, and this. Because of the military he keeps it very short but he likes when his s/o styles it around. It looks similar to these styles. Despite what canon says I say his eyes are deep green.

‣. König is a Libra! His birthdate is August 22, 1995! [I know Libra's aren't born in August but for the sake of fanfiction shhhh let's pretend it is!] Making König 27 years old; He's very mature for his age!

𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 ‣. König suffered from anxiety/social anxiety since he was 17 and still suffers till this day just not as much. He's able to turn it off in the field but once he's on leave and is around other civilians it comes crawling back. It has stopped him from making friends, hanging out with his fellow soldiers and even dating. He's still a virgin because of this (and because of work and him finding the right person but that's a later issue). However once you get past that shy exterior he's pretty cocky. He's proud of the fact that he is a colonel and he enjoys secretly flexing on his s/o. "Ja, I took down a group of terrorists and saved all the hostages by myself. No big deal (👀)." He's one of those quiet people who talks alot of shit in their head and sends side eyes instead of starting shit.

‣. König is relatively good at hiding his anger, especially since he wears that mask 24/7. He'll quietly brood in the corner--arms crossed giving off an aura that spooks the new recruits. He's very quiet not speaking unless spoken too or if he needs something. König is so sarcastic! He'll roll his eyes (secretly) or mumble smart comments under his breath––mocking whatever superior that pissed him off. If you're close to you him you'll notice when he's happy. He has a slight bounce in step and he walks with his chest puffed up proudly. It's a real cute sight honestly.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. König's favorite colors are earthy tones. He likes dark woodsy green, russet and navy blue. I imagine he loves the ocean and water. Especially creeks! Winter may not be his favorite season but he loves hiking through the snow in his hometown's nature trails. He enjoys hearing the sound of the snow and dead leaves crunch under his footsteps. Speaking of hometown his favorite dishes are things like beef stew or anything meaty and hearty. He really likes homemade jams and jellys. He prefers going to the farmers market and picking up his fruits and vegetables fresh.

‣.This man's house is HUGE. It would look maybe something like this. It's super spacious with a few spare rooms for guests. König showers more than he bathes. He's legs are too long to fit which makes him have to awkwardly scrunch himself up. He isn't around much because of his work so he never took to the time to properly decorate. If you're his s/o he gives you permission to decorate. Make it look really pretty for him please. He lives somewhere a little distant from the city; closer to the country but not too far. He still wants to be close to local shopping markets.

‣.I think König would prefer a fat/chubby partner over a thinner partner. He enjoys grabbing onto their body, holding them closely feeling the warmth radiate from their body. I see him liking a partner who is quiet. Not as quiet as him because he likes when your chatter fills the silence. But someone who's able to relax and enjoy the ambience of their surroundings. Someone who is able to point out the little details in things. He wouldn't mind an outgoing s/o, someone who speaks for him when he doesn't feel verbal that day.

König was once stationed by an ocean for half a year and it was the best moments of his life. It was so calming for him. Every night he could hear the waves gently crashing against each other it always soothed him. It was favorite lullaby (after the one his mom sings).

König always has his hands held behind his back or he holds them in the front. He enjoys grabbing parts of himself it helps keep him stable and grounded. He also fiddles alot. Like he constantly stretches and wiggles his fingers. Or he lightly traces his thighs up and down with his fingers.

One of his favorite genres of music is Electro Swing. His favorite band is Caravan Palace. He loves all their albums.

100% picks people up. If you're his s/o and you're in his way he's grabbing you by the waist and gently moving you over. If you're on the battlefield god knows he's treating you like a football; bro is slugging you over his shoulder if you get injured or he's tackling you down to protect you from grenades.

If he's stutters too much in a sentence he gets really mad. He doesn't find it funny when people mock his accent. Also!! There are certain English words that König just doesn't know. He's fluent in English and can write well but there are times he gets stuck on words he doesn't recognize.

Has a thing for chubby cheeks. Also really likes chubby fingers. If you have fat fingers please give him a massage, he would love it so much. It's such a nice contrast too; his rough calloused hands compared to your soft round ones.

Looves chocolate. Especially dark chocolate, he really enjoys candy bars with nuts and toffee in them. He adores American super-sized candy bars. He also really likes twizzlers and licorice.

He doesn't outwardly smoke but if you offer he won't refuse. He's makes sure not to make it a habit (his grandmother was very upset when she caught him smoking once), he'd rather die by a bullet than slowly kill himself.

I know I said he's 27 but I imagine him to be 35 in canon.

NATURE LOVER! Bro is enamored by the beauty of his home country. He loves observing the wildlife on walks. He has a journal where he keeps different leaves from different places he was stationed at.

Good friends with Horangi. Not like BFFS (they are) but they're drinking buddies. Horangi helps König with his social anxiety and König helps Horangi not fall back into gambling.

König's favorite meat ever is lamb. He fucking loves a tender lamb roast. Gets annoyed as hell when the meat get stuck between his gums but he thinks it's worth it for the delicious food.

Pretty particular about his beers, he doesn't drink anything he's a man of class! He'll go on this super long lecture about how German brewing is so much better than other countries and that non-German beer/alcohol can't compete. Him and Soap got into an argument about this.

He keeps his area as tidy as possible. He isn't a slob but isn't a complete neat freak. If he has a bunch of random items out he'll try and keep them in a organized pile.

Sometimes he leaves his guns out around his house.

Lowkey likes being needed. There are times when his fellow soldiers ask him for help carrying extra stuff or when children or the elderly ask him to reach stuff off the top shelves. Especially likes when his s/o ask him to carry them. He'll start to puff his chest out and walk around with a dumb grin under his mask.

Type of guy to see people down an asle and wait for them to move instead of saying excuse me. [Projecting fr fr]

A real crafty individual, his hood is just a tee-shirt with holes in it. His helmet is literally a bicycle helmet he modded with military gear. König knows how to sew and he can tailor a little. He prefers taking his clothes to a seamstress or tailor because his hands are very big and sewing can a take a long time and he doesn't have that much patience for it.

He LOVED arts and crafts as a child. He would make so much shit to bring him to his mom and grandma. His grandmother still has his things till this day.

His favorite English speaking bands would be The Smiths, Boâ and The Cranberries. He likes to quietly sing to himself it makes him happy. He also enjoys 70-80s music. I also think he likes the sound of nu metal/rock instrumentals.

If he had an s/o he would love to dance with them. He would/could never dance in public but behind closed doors god knows this man would shimmy with his partner. He doesn't care if you can dance well because he can't dance well, he just wants to let loose and have fun with you.

Broke a guy's ribcage once. It was during sparring and König was pretty pissed with the man because he did something cocky and stupid that caused them the life of another soldier. He didn't receive proper punishment because they successfully completed the mission but König decided he should deal his own form of justice. By putting so much pressure on his chest until he heard a satisfying crack sound.

I think he likes apple cider.

He was raised by his mother and grandmother so he has a softer spot towards woman. He enjoys being in their company.

Smells like one of those fireplace candles or something with sandlewood and cinnamon. On the battlefield thought he reeks of blood, sweat and gunpowder.

Absolutely hates when there is dirt under his nails (or anyone else's). He thinks it looks so gross it makes him wanna vomit.

His favorite animal is probably either a bear or fox. He also likes pigs, he thinks the little piglets are so cute.

König is texter not a caller. He'll send his s/o paragraphs of texts instead of small individual ones because he thinks the notifications would be annoying and the last thing he wants to be is annoying (please convince him he's not).

He always plans out conversations in his head. Before going to check-out he's going through a mental rundown of what the total is gonna be, how he's gonna pay and what the cashier is going to say. Being in the military lowkey made this worse. He's always over analyzing conversations because he's afraid of messing up and embarrassing himself.

He likes drama movies and psychological horror. Midsommar is one of his favorite horror movies.

König has stretch marks on his thighs and legs and a little on his stomach. His growth spurt was crazy as a child.

Requests: OPEN

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

[yanmuffins]

also, another thing (yes, i'm trying to procastinate again and then making u bear with me rambling) I love to draw reader wearing alternative clothing, or sometimes, just some tomboyish, lil' punk inspired style

idk, I feel like it gives some more life at them or smth

we both know that I usually prefer to draw the reader fem, but If i, someday, decide to draw them male or just gn, I think I would still insist in something different from the usual

idk, for male I would probably draw them in more fem styled clothing, throw some pink around and poke at skirts and maybe some dresses-shirts, If i feel daring (which I prob would, y'know, with the whole male-reader-drawing thingy)

for gn, I would probably just draw them in mandrake male, firstly because the style is comfortable, both to draw and to wear, and secondly because it is a subculture of the country where I live, which makes me more happy to draw it

can I be so for real right now? I do not see vampire!reader wardrobe staying the same doll, rich girl, homeschooled, butler loving thing forever

yeah, I could still see them envolving into goth, maybe romantic goth while we're at It, but wouldn't It just be funnier If It didn't?

so, after the vampirification, what if the reader start wearing smth really different from the batfam?

like, gyaru, punk (but REAL punk, with with pointy hair and various piercings), or fem mandrake, but with the crazy male mandrake hair with these neon drawing at the scalp that glow in the dark

yeah, it's a big leap, but it's a fun one too

(or maybe vamp!reader could put some sexy leather too, idc, I just want to give the batfam a headache! 😉👍)

thanks for reading my rambling, I must go back to hating to draw Damian (←😒) right now 😔💔

girl we’re from the same country (≧◡≦) ♡

i want to ramble and prattle about this so hard and give it a super long answer but!!! SPOILERS for my upcoming post on vampire! reader’s fashion i’m afraid.

vampire! reader's overall style holds a place dear to my hear, and is also relevant to the fic!

i'm not gonna lie, i envision vampire! reader to be more on the hyperfeminine side of things. pre-vampire-embrace she already wore exclusively black (with pops of white), shades of grey and a daring burgundy here and there, and i decided on those colors mostly to match her somber/modest/elegant choices when it comes to clothing and to match the wayne and, overall, just gotham's aesthetic. even as vampire! reader grows out of her dolly-like clothes, she was pretty much raised on designer and that's pretty much what she wears and will continue to wear. as in, new dior spring/summer collection just dropped? gotham's local store already has it ready for her to pick up. it comes naturally to her, it's just how alfred/bruce (mostly alfred) raised her.

also, spoiler: she feels like dressing on old-timey, vintage outfits makes her feel closer to her grandma. this also thanks to alfred's influence, who gave her access to martha wayne's wardrobe. she does enjoy wearing her grandma's old clothes. not the pearls, though.

considering her clan (👀), it's very fitting.

however!!!

i do find the idea of an alternative vampire! reader very interesting and fun to play around with, giving her (or him. or them) different personalities, reactions and upbringings which will lead her to be more suitable to different vampire clans. stereotypical, yeah, but a punk or cybergoth vampire! reader would make a great brujah or gangrel. gyaru or lolita! vampire reader could be a toreador or a malkavian. she grows out of her frilly socks and petitcoats and really finds herself in alternative styles.

now with our current vampire! reader's style transition, i'll save that for that one (amazing) ask to really yap about that.

and honestly? i don't believe the clothes themselves would really make the batfam scream cry and throw up (with the exception of alfred, but he'll get over it). it might make bruce and dick side-eye her a bit, but jason would find vampire! reader's mandrake/punk hair awesome. steph would be in love with gyaru/lolita vampire! reader's outfits.

unless we're talking about sexier outfits, like you said, leather and such. which i won't expand upon here, but that would surely make them uncomfortable.

but, much like our og vampire! reader, what really bothers them is the change in attitude, in company, in behavior. she was so quiet and demure before, going out during business hours and mostly coming home before it got dark, or at least sticking strictly to curfew. she barely had any friends. but suddenly she's hanging out with some person she met who knows where, frequenting nightclubs and coming home close to dawn? acting distant and avoidant towards her family (who didn't really pay her much mind but that's irrelevant)? now that grinds their gears.

but if we want to get away from that hyperfeminity post-embrace, i can see og! vampire! reader gravitating towards something like this:

[twst-drabbles]

Diasomnia 4

Summary: It was a simple picnic in the park with Silver and his pets, but Sebek is being insistent on serving all of you despite his size. The people passing through the park can’t help but find his antics adorable.

With all the strength in his body, Sebek piles on a bountiful feast and pulls the styrofoam plate towards you. His little grunts and squeaks as he shifts inch after inch towards had you chuckling into your hand. Can’t very well laugh at him in his face. Sebek would stop what he’s doing out of spite and just sit there seething the day away.

“Good job, Sebek,” Silver said with a smile on his face, rubbing a gentle finger on Sebek’s head, only for him to swat at it because he had to adjust the plate to point the best food at you first. “Ah, sorry.”

Sebek snapped his teeth, but a low growl from Malleus on your shoulder was enough to get him to stiffen up. While his eyes did threaten to shed tears, you watched as he put on his big boy pants with a big sniff and run back to the basket to get your drink.

You leaned against the table, huffing at his antics. “He’s certainly in a serving mood.”

Lilia popped his head out the basket, mouth clamped on a straw as he drank tomato juice. Sebek stiffened up mid-step, but shook his head and jumped half-way in the basket to grab your drink. His cute little feet and tail were swinging all the while and you found that just adorable.

“It’s really odd to see, honestly,” Silver’s smile was amused in the way one would when watching a kid sibling try so hard to impress someone they think is cool, “He’s never like this with me. Well, not to say he’s mean, but this kind of treatment is usually for Malleus or Lilia only.”

“You think if he could, Sebek would carry them just so they don’t have to walk?” Malleus’s wings were patting the side of your head, so you had no choice but to curl a finger under his chin.

Silver gave a light laugh as he replied, “He actually did that once! I had to scold Lilia for it while Malleus prefers to fly.”

“Of course he did.” You smiled down at Sebek as he balanced your drink against his whole body. He took one heavy step after step, making sure he and the drink don’t tumble.

“Hey!” Huh, that’s not a familiar voice, “Is that your pet?”

A small group of three kids, middle schoolers probably, stood on the sidewalk built into the nature park. The one that spoke was the smallest of them all, a little girl with red hair and pink stains on the shoulders of her uniform. In fact, all of them had wet hair dyed in various colors. Probably experimenting with the colors.

“Yes, he’s mine!” Silver shouted back.

Sebek huffed as he finally placed the drink right by your hand. He crossed his arms, looking real proud of himself for a job well done.

“He’s cute!” The girl gave two thumbs up, hopping in place as she grinned, “Like a tiny pocket butler!”

Silver waved, “Thank you!”

The smile on Sebek’s face cracked and a frown quickly replaced it. He slammed his thick tail on the table, insulted.

“Oh,” you leaned against your hand and mumbled, “someone’s a little sour, huh?”

Just so he doesn’t earn a reputation on being a temperamental pet–even though it is kind of true–you grabbed his face and squished his cheeks.

“Look at me,” you said, “mind getting me some napkins, please? My hands hurt so much and I need a perfect helper like you to help me.”

The sparkle was back in his eyes and he nodded, completely ignoring the fact that you played with his face. He marched back to the basket, ignoring a Lilia who’s flat on the table, belly bulging with tomato juice. He’s fast asleep. Malleus was drumming away at his belly with his little hands.

The kids waved goodbye and you and Silver returned it.

“Nice kids,” you commented. Even though the compliment wasn’t aimed at you, nor did you even reply to them, just being there to witness this cute moment left something fuzzy in you.

“They are. At least Sebek didn’t go into another fit. He seems to be having a lot of fun today.” Silver stretched up and popped his joints. “He gets easily agitated when people coo at him.”

"Oh, don't I know it."

[swollenbabyfat]

Hello! I saw you were taking asks about anything (with bonus pictures of Mr. Haku?? bless) so I was wondering if I could politely pick your brain about your illustrative process. I've been tearing my hair out over rendering practice lately and your studies always blow me away. I know you've had some training and I think we both use Procreate, so I'd love to hear about how you use layers and/or layer blend modes, but also general process, thoughts, tips, etc. hope you're well, have a nice day :-)

Thank you so much for the ask and kind words!

I don’t cross promote it as much as I should probably but I upload a lot of speedpaints to YouTube, such as this study that might be helpful. Depending on how complicated the piece is, I’ll either break it down by putting shapes down (typically darks first) or do a more formal sketch if I don’t think I can easily eyeball it. After the sketch, I do an under painting on a layer below the sketch, set the sketch to multiply and then I render everything on one layer. It really depends on the brushes you use, but I prefer to build opacity slowly with a brush that doesn’t blend, lowering and upping the brushes opacity as I see fit. This creates a more complicated, kind of glowy effect that I think works particularly well for skin rendering.

I’ve been exclusively using leatherwood under “artistic” in procreate recently. You have to use a pretty big canvas to make it work (I’m usually working on 8000px+ 300dpi) but I really enjoy some of the unpredictability of the brush, makes things feel more natural. Not sure if I altered the brush at all but if there was a multiply or stabilization on I turn those off always, basically.

As for layer modes, I don’t tend to use them a ton for paintings except maybe for maybe throwing a slight multiply layer to bring tones down if the key gets too high. I’m more likely to mess with curves and color balance to experiment with color. I do this especially for my lined illustrations, I use layer modes also for them too and just go to town trying a bunch of stuff. My tip for this is to duplicate your file, flatten everything, duplicate your flattened layer and just mess with it until it feels right. Color editing to this degree is kind of new to me, but since I’ve begun it’s really upped my game I think.

Before/after color editing. I know sometimes people think of this as a cheating tool in digital art but honestly that is a silly take to me.

I hope this answers some of your more specific questions. Thank you again!

This post is already long as shit so Mr. Haku under the cut

[thevampiremarie]

treehouse chapter 32

Dream of the Endless | Lord Morpheus x reader pregnancy fic

You are introduced to an inhabitant of the Dreaming. (ao3 link here if you prefer to read it there!)

For the past few days,  the rain in the Dreaming has not stopped.

The Dreaming has a baffling variety of weather, from sheets of rain so heavy you can barely see out of your large window to light droplets of mist that leave a fine sheen on your skin, as if the winds and storm clouds are more temperamental than the myths of the god Zeus.

You suppose that given where you are, you’re not too far off.

Per your new silent understanding with the god of dreams, you haven’t seen hide nor hair of Morpheus since the beginning of the storm that has blanketed his realm. Lots of Lucienne and Matthew, who’ve kept you from going stir crazy with their company, jokes, and camaraderie, but none of him. No dark, skulking shadow comfortingly following your steps, no stars glittering with more than light and cosmic dust.

It’s what you wanted, right?

Right.

And in his absence, your experience of the Dreaming has gotten… better, somehow, like you’ve developed a tolerance to the madness that’s endemic to a realm built out of collective fantasies. You walk through these halls and they make sense, how the corridors wind and twist. It’s still one big Escher painting with staircases going where no staircases should and walls twisting into each other like Gordian knots. It makes sense to you now that you’ve accepted that it never will.

Freed of the compulsive urge to sort chaos into order, your mind returns to thoughts of a more usual sort.

Gods are real. That is without question. And so is magic.

…What else?

You could ask Lucienne, but you don’t want to.

You want to ask him.

After wrapping yourself up in a warm sweater and sliding your feet into fleece-lined slippers, because good God is the Dreaming cold all the damn time, you set out in search of Morpheus.

The marble tiles lead you to him, reflecting your intentions. It was odd the first time you found yourself practically deposited by the castle itself in the kitchens when you wanted tea, but now you just relax and let it happen.

The throne room again. You don’t think you’ll ever stop blushing when you see Morpheus’s grand, ornately carved chair.

He’s not on it. Instead, you find him lingering on the steps to the throne, laying back as rain seeps through the ceiling to drench him in a perpetually-refilling, miserable-looking puddle. His dark hair sticks to his forehead and he stares aimlessly into space, his hands folded under his head.

The whole thing is a little pathetic, honestly.

You dance out of the way of a stray stream of rainwater before it soaks into your slippers.

“Morpheus,” You call out, stepping only where you’re sure it’s dry.

When he shoots up into a sitting position, he almost falls down a step. The puddle soaking into black coat grows larger.

Without thinking, you giggle at Morpheus’s uncharacteristic clumsiness, making a warm, happy noise that seems to make the inside rain disappear altogether.

This is how it’s supposed to be between you and him. The realization hits you like a flash of lightning.

This is what you want your future to look like.

He clears his throat as a faint blue tinge colors his sallow cheeks in something approximating a blush. “I offer - uh, my sincerest regrets for the-“ Dream waves his hand at the pool and it disappears in an instant.

“It’s fine, it’s not like it’s your fault,” You offer.

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to; Morpheus says everything by raising a single eyebrow and stifling a smile.

If you could facepalm in an elegant way, you would right about now. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?” You say with a good-natured sigh. There’s no shame in admitting when you’ve been bested.

He inclines his head. “Perhaps.” His lips purse with amusement.

Your heart skips a beat.

Before Morpheus can somehow throw you off balance further, you plop yourself down on the stair next to him. “Well, we’re off to an excellent start.” But you don’t sit  close enough to touch. It’s for your peace of mind, naturally.

“I’m inclined to agree.” Morpheus pauses. “Certainly better than the last time we-“ He mutters under his breath.

You can hardly begrudge him his right to be salty, so you act like you didn’t hear anything. “I want to play a game with you, Dream Lord. Interested?” The floor is remarkably uncomfortable, you think as you lay back. How on earth does Morpheus do it?

Ah, that’s probably the point. He is so predictable and somehow endearing all at once.

You take your sweater off and bunch it under your neck to support your head, before carefully arranging the skirt of the soft cotton chemise you had underneath it around your legs. All of the clothes his realm has provided for you are like that, dreamy, fantastical gowns and underpinnings that would better suit a fairy princess in a children’s book.

The thing about talking shit out and forgiveness and moving forward is that it takes two. You know that, you knew it even when you didn’t want to forgive Morpheus one day.

But in the echoing quiet that enveloped the past few days you’ve spent alone, you decided to try.

“What do I get when I win?” Morpheus asks, his blue eyes shining as they behold your face, your expression soft and unmarred by anger.

He’s always so confident. “I ask questions and you have to answer them,” You continue to explain.

You’ve put a lot of thought into this, dissecting what you want from him beyond what he refuses to give. It feels as if you’re walking a tightrope fifty stories above the ground, trying to be true to yourself and fair to him.

Time alone helped you get over that too - the seething, bitter resentment that even though Dream didn’t deserve shit, your feelings betrayed you and filled you with guilt over hurting him anyways.

Your eyes accidentally linger a second too long on his mouth and your cheeks flush.

Morpheus mulls your proposition over in his head: “Seems straightforward enough.” For what feels like the first time, the different incarnations of Morpheus, of Dream, that you know and the vast, unknowable, immortal Other all seem to align, one on top of the other. You can see his familiar godlike beauty and secret kindness in each, and there is a certain order to his existence that you can understand.

And you are not afraid. “But you have to tell the truth. Otherwise you lose the game,” You tease, hoping that he can see you reaching across the emotional crevasse between you, that he wants you to build a bridge.

His gaze flashes at your face for a moment. “And what would happen if I hypothetically lost?” There’s light in Morpheus that transfixes you, hope and sorrow beading like tears in the corners of his eyes.

“Horrible things. Just absolutely diabolical.”

Morpheus hums under his breath. “Consider me terribly frightened, then,” He says dryly.

He’s smiling. Just a little.

“Good. So what’ll it be?” Your voice is too strained, your posture too stiff. You’re giving away the churning, anxious contents of your mind that settle uneasily in your stomach, the fear that you’ve come too late.

You feel something rustle your hair. Morpheus has moved closer, his fingers mere inches from your face. “Query away, Basileia. I am at your disposal.” His hands twitch as if it’s painful for Dream to restrain himself from touching you.

That odd word rolls off of his tongue like an ancient prayer, soft and musical. It’s like a word you’d find chiseled in the ruins of a temple, part of a poem to honor a long-gone goddess.

“What does ‘Basileia’ mean?” You ask.

“You came all this way to ask me that?”

He can be such a little shit sometimes. “Obviously not, I’m just getting warmed up. Naturally.”

“Naturally,” Dream agrees in a manner that indicates he’s humoring you. “In the expressive native tongue of the poet Homer, ‘Basileia’ means ‘great queen’.”

You’re like a moth caught in the hot, unrelenting light of his undisguised, unrepentant tenderness. You couldn’t fly away even if you wanted to.

“So, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless… what exactly do you do?”

Even though you’ve started adjusting to the magic surrounding you, to the unvarnished divinity burning in Morpheus’s human form, it’s the moments when you’re so painfully human that you truly feel the difference between you.

Like now. “Pardon?” He raises his dark eyebrows.

“You know. What do you do? What does your job entail? Uh… Could you describe the duties that come with your honored station? Or do you just sulk all day under your own personal rain cloud?” Dream is behaving like a wet street cat someone took pity on and let inside.

Stick a pair of cat ears in his hair and the resemblance would be remarkable. And he’s got the big, pathetic, and adorable eyes and an over-dramatic, faux-disinterested yet deeply involved manner.

“I do not sulk,” Dream of the Endless mutters under his breath. “I am an Endless.”

A couple seconds later, Dream amends his statement. “I only sulk sometimes.” He frowns at the sour taste of admitting it.

“Mmhmm.”

“Of course I… ‘do things.’ If one can call being an integral part of the fabric and machinations of reality ‘things’. It’s a state of being, for your future reference.” When Dream notices you shifting uncomfortably, trying to find a good position for your aching back, he helps you up before summoning into existence a significantly more comfortable chaise lounge for you to stretch out on.

It’s upholstered in black velvet, of course, and practically bursting with stuffing. If you weren’t pregnant, and your joints weren’t swelling painfully from the cold stone floor, you’d reject it on principle.

“It’s not not ‘things’,” You offer as you lay back, watching Morpheus return to his miserable isolation.

You get that he’s punishing himself on your behalf, but you’d really feel better if he’d just sit with you like a grown-up instead of pushing you away. Pretty damn on the nose.

Morpheus sits with his arms on his knees, his long fingers laced together. “You already know I am the god of dreams, that I create them. It’s- that language feels inadequate, somehow.” As he goes on, his whole face lights up.

His hands start to move as he speaks, and his voice grows stronger, more confident. “You’re growing a life inside yourself that we made. Humanity’s dreams are alive in me and I grow them, nurture them. I cradle them in my hands and release them to be yours, and mirrors of you, mirrors of your world, and mirrors of me.” His passion is so palpable you can practically feel it on your skin, sparking like electricity through a live wire.

“Right now there’s a little girl surviving in a war zone, dreaming about a bar of chocolate. In her dreams, I give it to her, so the taste stays in her mouth when she wakes. A little bit of sweetness in a life currently marked by suffering,” Morpheus says quietly.

He reaches a pale hand out and before your eyes, the sky bends down at his call. His pointed finger meets the galaxies and nebulas and stirs them as casually as if he were stirring coffee. Darkness begins to bleed through the tableau, snuffing out the stars one by one, poured into the world from his hand.

“I craft nightmares as well.”

You blink and his fingers aren’t fingers anymore. They’re claws of flawless ivory bone, coated in dripping black blood. His mouth is filled with razor sharp fangs and his eyes turn into shadowed hollows of unfathomable depths. Morpheus grows taller, his bones prominent under the paper-thin veneer of gray skin. The darkness swallows him up, wraps him in fabric woven from pained screams and bitter tears that smells of the sour, battery acid scent of fear.

You resist the urge to flinch, to pull away, to find a hiding place and guard yourself and your baby from this threat that humans have known since before they struck rocks together to create the first fire.

You’re a child again, arranging your stuffed animals in a ring around your bed to protect you from the monsters, spending hours watching your window for movement instead of sleeping.

Your stomach churns and bile rises in your throat. Your hands clench as you hold the vomit in.

The entity, the horrible nightmare king, watches you. It sits up and stares at you, daring you to run.

You do not run.

You pull yourself upright and you stare the nucleus of every fear you’ve ever had straight in the face. “I had a nightmare the night before you-“ The blood. The needles.

Morpheus walking away.

The memories sting like a slap to your face.

The figure bows its head in repentance. “Before I came to you? Yes. I’m sorry. I never- I did not make that one for you. My creations take on a life of their own after they leave my workshop, but it was never supposed to come for you. And I won’t ever forgive myself for subjecting you to that, my- my love.”

Even through the vicious mouth of teeth, Dream’s voice sounds the same. Sadder, even.

“I see,” You murmur, trying to calm your racing heartbeat.

As the wraith sighs, its exaggerated, protruding ribs creak as the bones slide against one another. He cuts a remarkably forlorn figure even when surrounded by his fantastical kingdom and wielding damn near the full extent of his power.

“You don’t need to apologize. Nightmares are a part of you. I understand that now. You can’t go against what you are, what you were made to be.” It’s as simple as that, isn’t it?

The distance between you and him feels insurmountable.

Light filters through the throne room bit by bit, as if Morpheus finally gave the sun in The Dreaming permission to rise. “I…” He starts, then falls silent again. “That's not all I am. I need you to believe that.” You watch as Dream slowly dons his previous appearance. He rearranges himself as if he’s a stained glass window, turning each piece of colored glass into an entirely new design. A design you’re more familiar with - dark hair, pale but not bloodless skin, shining blue eyes flecked with stars and nebulas.

“Alright,” You say with a nod. You recline again into the soft, comforting cushion of the chaise lounge, feeling warmth on your cheeks as if you’re sitting outside on a hot summer day.

“Tell me, what has become of one William Shakspere?”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Shakespeare?” 

“So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason.

And touching now the point of human skill,

Reason becomes the marshal to my will

And leads me to your eyes, where I o’erlook

Love’s stories written in love’s richest book,” You recite from memory without a second of hesitation. “From ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.”

His pretty, pretty eyes crinkle at the edges in amusement. “Interesting choice of quote.”

You flush and fall silent. Perhaps you should’ve hesitated after all.

“That’s one of my favorites, too.”

“Of course you love that one.” You pause before grumbling under your breath, “Mr. Conceited.”

Morpheus hides his laughter under a pronounced cough.

“If I wished to be conceited, like a certain sibling of mine that I shall not name, I’d take credit for the tales of the Bard of Avon. But that would do him an injustice. William took the scraps of inspiration I tossed his way and changed the face of mortal culture for the rest of time. Then dreams and fantasies he inspired fed back into me.”

And then… you’re swept off your feet and into a vision.

Figures whirl past you, dancing and talking and fighting one another. The imperious fairy queen Titania, resplendent in a glittering cloak, hand in hand with the impish, donkey-faced Puck. A thousand and one incarnations of Romeo calling out to a thousand and one Juliets at her balcony.

You feel it. You feel the joy, the laughter, the sadness, the anticipation felt by every single person touched by one of Shakespeare’s works. Millions. Hundreds of millions, maybe.

Hundreds of millions of hearts shattering every time Romeo takes the poison and Juliet cries out at the sight of his corpse.

A tear rolls down your cheek. Then another, and another.

These stories are alive. They breathe. They’re more than alive, they’re more real than reality,

The weight of all those feelings, all of those people, that power…

“That’s what I do at its very best. That is what I can be,” Dream says as he steps forward, so bright and brilliant that he makes those stories look like faded imitations of his glory.

You gasp, your hand clutching your throat. “You’re amazing. Do you know that? Do you realize how fucking incredible all of this is? My god,” You murmur.

Morpheus merely bows his head. No bravado, no charm. Just an overwhelming sadness that takes you a moment to understand, and when you do, your heart shatters for him.

“It’s beautiful. You’re- you’re beautiful, Morpheus. Even the nightmares are beautiful, in their own way. So powerful. I respect power, even if I don’t want to be on the other end of it,” You comfort. You’re not even lying.

He’s the most human thing you’ve ever known. That’s where his deep pain comes from, his fatal flaw; the inherent opposition of immortality and mortality, his envy of beings that are his vast inferior, his love for the light that he reflects but can never, ever join.

“…You think so?” His mouth trembles.

“I know so.” Your voice gains strength, urging him, begging him to listen. “It’s the truth. You don’t believe me. Don’t deny it, I can tell. You’re the very best of us, the artist of artists and muse of muses, and you don’t believe me.” His baby stirs inside of you, not content to be left out of this conversation. Little Bird wants to comfort their daddy too. “And you’re not very happy, either,” You finish.

He sighs and the many ages he’s lived hang upon him like shackles, drowning him in his sorrows. “I wasn’t. Until I met you,” Dream admits tenderly. “I recall a disagreement you and I had back at the beginning, in the park. Remember?”

“Yeah, I do. I was furious at you,” You recall, torn between giggling at how overblown the fight became and apologizing over and over for how horribly crass and insensitive you were that afternoon.

“My… cynicism, if you will, comes from my job. The worst parts. Not only seeing the most sick, sadistic, and cruel parts of the collective mortal psyche, but having those parts live in me, become me. Become what I create. Me and not me, all at once. Hundreds of billions of voices in my head, screaming, sobbing.” Morpheus presses his palm to his temple as if somehow, he can press hard enough to make the torturous sounds stop.

Your regret over hurting him churns in your rib cage, then crawls up your throat, forcing its way from between your lips. “I-“ You start to speak.

“Don’t apologize,” Morpheus says quietly. “Don’t you dare. Your feelings were legitimate then and you… were right. Like the humans I loathed, it was easier for me to choose hatred and rage than it was to believe that my life could be worth something more. I was no better than them. Someone had to tell me the unvarnished truth and you fearlessly did. Thank you.”

His eyes are clear and his face is earnest, yet sober. There is no secret rage or cloaked resentment lurking inside. He’s not who he used to be, or like any man you’ve known before him.

You have nothing to fear.

It’s evident that of the many things Morpheus desires, the very last thing on that list is pity, especially yours. He’s too proud for that.

After a long minute spent scrutinizing him, holding your breath in case he changes his mind, you eventually nod. “If I had your job, I think I’d go insane in about five minutes.”

Dream sighs in relief, almost imperceptibly. “I can’t deny that I’ve been close to that, at times.” You were right. Pity would’ve enraged him. But you know him like no one else does.

“What do you mean by ‘hundreds of billions of voices’?” You ask.

“I hope you didn’t think humanity was the center of the universe.”

“What can I say? Conceit is one of the human-est qualities out there,” You quip.

Morpheus smirks as he looks at you through the thick sweep of his long, dark eyelashes. “Your hubris is very attractive. But I suppose that’s because all of you is… very attractive,” He almost purrs, drawing flirtation around himself like a fine coat.

“Yeah, okay buddy, you can dial it back,” You respond, rolling your eyes even as your cheeks flush. “I’ve already been caught. You’ve got me. It’s not like you can get me more pregnant.”

“Darling, you get so flustered and red whenever I compliment you. And I’m meant to resist that temptation?” He raises an eyebrow.

There’s a beat of silence as you sit there, Morpheus’s gaze feasting on your pulse jumping in your throat and your fluttering eyelids.

“Aliens are real? Like, real real?”

“Aliens are… real real.” Your slang sounds funny and out of place in his fancy, posh accent. “Out of the many, many species that exist, only yours is fond of casual, familiar language as a sign of affection.”

“Which is the most formal?”

Out of nowhere, cats spring from every spare corner of the room. You yelp, only to be surrounded by a dearth of overly-inquisitive yet exceedingly polite cats sniffing your feet and investigating your hands. A pretty one, all black with bright blue-green eyes, jumps on the back of your lounge and begins to rummage through your hair.

“Mmm. I’ll make things equitable by selecting from the species I could describe to you in your native tongue. Felis catus. Their eloquence is unmatched on your planet, in my humble opinion.”

It’s pale pink nose, cool and slightly damp, brushes your cheek.

“What do cats dream of, anyways?” You say through your giggles, gently carding your fingers through its’ soft, downy fur. The cat purrs louder and louder with each pet. After a moment, your self-control breaks and you kiss its little forehead as you scratch under its chin.

“Oh, plenty of things. They’re an imaginative bunch. For example…” Morpheus nods at the clutter of cats. Dozens of flickering eyes flash towards him and they blink so slowly that you realize it’s intentional.

The cats spring into action. They jump and scamper, chase each other and clamber up the columns encasing Morpheus’s throne room, growing in size until even the smallest kitten could level a multi-story house with a single stomp.

The black one who’s decided to make your lap its napping place stays where it is, even nestling itself into your curved stomach, right next to your baby bump. You can feel the vibrations of its happy cat noises through your dress. “They dream about shrinking people down?

“They dream about growing big, big enough to toss your species around like feather toys.•

“Entirely on brand,” You reply. You feel the smile on your face deep in your soul, keeping you warm all the way down to your toes.

Your smile emboldens him. Dream picks himself up off the floor effortlessly, almost giddy with excitement. “Come. I wish to show you something,” He tells you as he extends his hand out to help you to your feet.

You hesitantly take it and allow him to steady you with his other hand on the small of your back.

The throne room begins to swim before your eyes, taking on that migraine-inducing translucent quality that felt like you’d just taken a tab of bad acid, that made you want to escape from this realm into the Waking World, where you could be sure that you and your surroundings were real.

His hand hasn’t left your back and you’re horribly reminded of being dragged through different planes of existence, like a fish caught on a hook being reeled through the air.

But this time, Dream is with you. He’s steady, a solid pillar of a body you can lean against and feel with your hands, keeping you upright and grounded. “We’re not swimming through dimensions, just going down the block. Metaphorically,” He says quickly, rubbing your back in a silent apology.

You trust him.

Amidst the chaos, the rainbow of colors painting the world around you like you’re walking through an abstract painting, you reach for him. Your fingers intertwine with his, fitting so easily it was like you were always meant to hold his hand.

His pulse jumps in his wrist, beating faster and faster as the minutes pass that you stay with him, that you let him lead you forward.

A door appears out of nowhere, made from solid oak with a heavy brass handle. It hovers in the air, trying to decide if it wants to exist, until Dream reaches out for the handle. As soon as he starts to open it, the door steadies itself.

Even though you can��t tell what’s beyond the door, Dream urges you to walk through first.

You’re struck by his silence and the barest hint of hesitation. Whatever he’s about to show you matters. He cares, deeply, for your approval.

You realize you may be inclined to give it to him.

On the other side of the door is green. Green and blue and pink and purple.

Fields of grass as far as the eye can see, touching all the way to the horizon. Sun shines through each blade of grass, making them glow a vibrant, almost unnatural verdant hue that you can barely tear your eyes away from the grass. Impossibly soft and so alive. You can practically feel the life bursting from the stalks, the millions of tiny souls sleeping in the soil using photosynthesis to stretch even closer to the sun.

The great blue sky stretches overhead, as blue as cornflower, dappled with the occasional fluffy white cloud. The clouds only enhance the great, overwhelming beauty around you, trundling through the sky like little flocks of white sheep.

Pink and purple flowers break up the green grass, scenting the clean, crisp air with the faintest aroma of sweetness. You can practically taste the flower nectar on your tongue. Violets, daisies, bluebells, countless other wildflowers that match not just the blue of the sky, but all the other shades one could see in the sky; the shy, warm pale pink of the dawn and the dappled purple of early twilight.

The gentle cooling breeze brings with it the scent of dark, moist soil, earthy and lush.

Everything is bursting with life, as if at any moment the grass will break into a chorus of song or the flowers will turn to you and greet you cheerfully.

It’s like something out of a movie.

Once you realize it, you turn to him with your hand pressed to your mouth and happy tears crowding your eyes. “Morpheus…” You gasp.

Morpheus gestures towards the horizon. “Basileia, I introduce you to Fiddler’s Green. A member of the Major Arcana and one of my oldest subjects.”

“It’s just like Howl’s Moving Castle.”

Your delight makes him blush ever so slightly. “Indeed. And Spirited Away, and Castle in the Sky, Kiki’s Delivery Service. My Neighbor Totoro.”

“After I was released from Roderick Burgess’s glass prison, the Dreaming, my own domain, a realm woven out of every piece of myself, seemed as alien and foreign to me as Ithaca was to Odysseus. I thought the evolution of my dreams and nightmare without my guidance symbolized my redundancy. A democracy of dreams. I was no longer needed, and I did not belong in the only home I’ve ever had.” 

Even the living, breathing beauty of Fiddler’s Green can’t alleviate the heartbreak you feel when you see his spirit breaking from that loss, unable to move on or forward.

“Until you showed me that film you’re so fond of, I’d been disturbed, frankly, at the changes in my dreams and nightmares. Even a dream as loyal and dutiful as Fiddler’s Green had abandoned me, and returned to my realm feeling like a foreign limb stitched to my body.”

Morpheus pauses to take a deep breath.

“You and Fiddler’s Green reminded me that I can be a dreamer, too. I can feel wonder. I can walk through unknown meadows and see a blue sky I’ve never witnessed before, and let it thrill me. Inspire me.”

The warmth of the sunlight illuminates the contours of his chiseled face and turns his eyes from icy, unforgiving sapphire to gentle, open cerulean. “Your generation dreams in the daylight and the open air, not only at night, in the secret recesses of the mind.”

You want to reassure Dream that he suits the Waking world just as much as he does the Dreaming, but you sense he needs to keep going. Not just for you, but for him, like setting down at last the burden that’s been choking the life out of him.

“It is my hope one day that I can do that for you. Be with you in the open air, walk with you through my world and yours. I know you’ve dreamt of it. I’m not sure what exactly I feared. Maybe that your feelings would disappear once you saw me as I was, that I couldn’t be the dream you deserved. So I did what dreams do and I fled into the shadows.”

“What makes you think that would have happened?” Somehow, it’s worse knowing the truth.

It’s worse knowing how close he was to you when he felt a million miles away. It’s worse realizing that if Dream had made a different choice, just one, there would be nothing tearing you apart. 

He looks at you with such anguish gathered in the furrowed lines in his forehead. “…It’s happened before,” Dream says brokenly. “And what I could offer wasn’t enough for them. I wasn’t enough. And I love you. I couldn’t bear it if you rejected me like all the others.” His shoulders hunch and he angles himself away from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat.

Before you fully understand why, you reach out your hand. “Come here, Morpheus.” Doubt flickers across his expression.

You’re not offended. He’s been brought low too many times before, and that reaction has nothing to do with you. If you could, you’d reach into the past and steal away everything that taught him fear and uncertainty.

After a short while, he takes your hand hesitantly, still afraid you’ll tear it away from him.

You run your thumb along the back of his hand, tracing each vein and tendon. “It didn’t have to go down like this. I understand. I see you. You never had to push me away. Do you hear me?”

“I do.”

It’s painful to talk about this. “I don’t blame you for being so afraid. I was just as scared. What you were afraid I’d do to you, I felt like you were doing to me.” But it’s a good kind of pain.

The two of you are cauterizing the wounds you’ve left on each other’s hearts and the sweetness of Fiddler’s Green soothes what’s left.

His mouth trembles. “…I’m sorry.” A soft breeze dances around the two of you, swooshing through the very tips of his hair.

You hold his hand with both of your hands and draw his palm to your heart. “You have to stop making decisions about us and me without me. I am not another dream for you to control. I want to forgive you. But I will never allow anyone, god or not, to have power over my life like that. You dragged me here because you were afraid I’d reject you. I know. But you never even gave me the chance to say yes. So now I can’t.” A stray tear gathers at the corner of your eye. “You would’ve been enough for me. I would’ve fought for us. Quit making it so that I can’t.”

Dream carefully wipes it away before it can fall, touching your cheek with the lightest, most delicate of pressures. “One day, perhaps I can. And can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

The words pour from your mouth all turbulent and twisted, mirroring your thoughts. “Honestly? I’m not sure. Maybe. I want to. Listen to me. I really, really fucking want to. But I don’t know. I need more time and you have to show me that you’ve changed. And you’ve got to be okay with it, even if it doesn’t work out for us. You can’t control love. You’re either in or you're out.”

His expression is a mask of stone and ice, and his eyes are hooded. You might as well be singing your heart to the wide open sky or pleading for mercy from an avalanche.

“If you don’t think you have that in you, to trust me with that and to keep loving me even when there may not be a happy ending for us in the cards, even when you’re not getting anything out of it, tell me. That’s okay.” It would not be okay. It would shatter what’s left of your heart. It would choke the life out of you.

But you have to give him the option to leave, right? Otherwise you’d be a hypocrite. Behind the knee jerk compulsion to never let Dream go, there is a soft thudding feeling in the back of your mind that reminds you that you mean it. You want better for him. You want him to know what love actually is, even if it isn’t with you. He deserves that.

Morpheus sucks in a sharp breath. “It will be a… new adventure for me, admittedly. But I like adventure, and I’m-“ He pauses to brush a stray hair out of your face. “I’m very fond of you.” 

He speaks of fondness and you know he means more than that. Dream speaks of familiarity. The unbearably ordinary and mortal part of love that is waking up together everyday and sharing a cup of coffee, not dramatic declarations or life-or-death drama. You were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, what you could give him.

“So I’ll try. Let me warn you as well - I will not be parted from you. I just won’t. You must find a way to accept that.” His hand moves from over your heart to just between your collarbones, his palm pressing flat and possessive into your skin.

In the raging blue-gray storm of Dream’s irises, you see flashes of pale lightning.

“I understand,” You answer.

A familiar quickening sensation inside of you draws your attention away from him. You remember reading in one of your pregnancy development books that at sixteen weeks, your baby can hear you, even if they don’t understand the sounds.

Little Bird knows your voice, you realize. Little Bird wants their father to know they’re there.

His stricken, concerned voice brings your mind back to him. “What is it? Are you well?” He asks as he curls one of his arms around your waist before stooping so he can see your face to make sure you’re not ill or in pain.

“Morpheus,” You say dreamily. “Give- give me your hand.” After a few seconds of your blind fumbling for it, Morpheus places his hand in yours.

You clasp it to your small baby bump.

Silence. You frown. Perhaps the moment has passed.

Just as Dream begins to pull away…

A stronger movement. A hummingbird-fast flap of tiny wings.

When Morpheus tucks his face into the crook of your neck, his tears dampen your skin. He gasps. You’re both sniffling. “Oh, my love. My queen. Thank you,” Dream whispers. “I can- I can hear…” The sky overhead blooms into a riot of color, every shade of every sunset.

“Hear what?”

Morpheus straightens. His smile-

His smile takes your breath away. “I can hear our Little Bird.” You kiss him without any hesitation, your chapped lips moving against his smooth, soft mouth, and your happy, happy tears mix with his own.

[mist-touchedxiv]

Rating: 18+

Name: Loksen Tyr

Race: Viera | Veena

Patron Deity: Oschon

Hometown: Skatay Range | Kópavogur

Age: 75+

Height: 6'1"

Weight: 198 lb

Hair: Black with unusual natural blue streaks

Eyes: Aether blue

Gender: Male (he/him)

Orientation: Heterosexual

Marital Status: Single

Occupation: Formerly Wood-warder, slave

Currently Adventurer

Job: SAM/ARC

Favorite Color: Blue

Smoking: Yes, occasionally. Prefers using a kiseru. Blends own tobacco, typically with vanilla. The smell of smoked tobacco can help dull his already potent Vieran sense of smell if he feels overwhelmed

Drinking: Yes. Loves Vieran aquavit and Mjød, but hasn't encountered either in years. Due to spending time in Hingashi enjoys sake and often carries a flask, which he has been known to use as a weapon

Diet: Omnivore

Hobbies: Whittling, archery, drinking and eating, traveling, fishing, mahjong, reading Vieran poetry, camping

Personality: Reserved, almost aloof. Intense. Helpful. Honorable. His noble heart and wanderlust belies a quiet guilt.

Distinguishing Features: Vieran male. Lotta blue. Speaks Eorzean with a noticeable but pleasant accent akin to Finnish. Faded scars across his back and torso. Brand on the back of neck to identify him as a Garlean prisoner, usually covered by hair.

Löksen was a typical Wood-warder many years ago, until the day the Garlean empire attacked Dalmasca. During a periodic visit to his home village, hearing disturbing rumors that Garlemald had set eyes on Dalmasca. Having proven to be a great archer, the leaders urged him and a small group of other Wood-warders to make a trip to Dalmasca to convince the Viera living in the city to come home.

Ultimately, they failed. Having scarcely arrived in the foreign city, it was overrun by Garlean forces and the other men were killed in the ensuing battles and Löksen taken prisoner for several years. During his imprisonment at a Garlean labor camp, Löksen was a target of fascination and sometimes ridicule as a rare male of an already elusive people. His Wood-warder background prepared him for the harsh conditions of the camp and helped him survive. His time in the camp also introduced him to a variety of people and cultures that he never would have encountered otherwise. Imprisoned Sharlayan scholars taught him the Eorzean language, an old Hingan woman taught him the way of the samurai, a pair of Lalafell smugglers regaled him with stories of Ul'dah, among others.

Eventually, the camp was inadvertently liberated by Bahamut's rampage and during the chaos, Löksen fought and killed the Garlean officer who had served as a tormentor and overseer and took their gunblade as a trophy that he carries with him.

Now he wanders Etheirys partly as an adventurer inspired by the stories of his fellow inmates about the diverse lands they came from, but also to try to escape a sense of guilt for failing his people in Dalmasca and trying to seek solace.

RP Hooks

Hey there, mun here. I'm pretty flexible on how to start interactions. I'm completely open to discussing things or just go with the flow, provided you start of course.

I designed Loksen to essentially be a support character. He's not a WoL, he's not blessed with Echo. Honestly, my goal with him is to bring texture and enhance YOUR story. I suppose I'm more focused on being a character than a protag, I guess.

He's got his own little stories, but I'm here to make friends and try my hand at a creative outlet that I haven't done in several years.

Anyways, here's some possibilities!

Yojimbo: A wandering warrior of no small skill. Something need doing? Body? Guarded. Bounties? Hunted. Monsters? Slain. Need a courier because you can't deliver through regular services? He's got legs.

Animal-lover: He will pet the animals.

Tarzan Boy: You can take the Wood-warder out of the woods, but you can't take the warder out... of... the... Well, Loksen prefers to be out in nature when he gets the chance and he can be a bit wild. Maybe you encounter him out in the Shroud climbing amongst the trees and foraging for food.

"Where'd You Get That?!": As a samurai, Loksen carries an extremely unusual blade: the gunblade of a Primus Ordinarius of exquisite craftsmanship. Sure to draw the attention of any Garleans affiliated character. It has been modified to be suited for fighting in the manner of the legendary Hingashi warrior tradition.

About the RPer

Cishet • M • 30+ • North America Central Time Zone • Weird, but well-meaning

[vacantgodling]

#40: Lord Evondra, The Demon King

For what they stole, they will pay. For what they slaughtered, you will return tenfold. For what they killed, you will decimate generations and generations of their own. They were worth the best of them, all of them. It won’t be long before you gather your strength, it won’t be long before you raze their fields. It won’t be long before you’re free of your cage, so silently, you wait. But your magic precedes you, and your scouts report to you. It won’t be long before your feast begins. The only hope anyone has of stopping you is to return what they stole. But that’s impossible; for you cannot resurrect the dead.

“evondra” means good of man; which is very ironic all things considered.

age unknown but at least a thousand terranean years (called irandiums); being a beast their aging works differently. any pronouns, however, she is used to being called she/her or feminine pronouns, so those work. romance, sex & preference: arian only. everyone else can kick rocks lol

evondra has 2 main forms: the one that arian is familiar with and the one that she mostly existed in 300 years before present day (aka before she ate her father cough) is more akin to what we would think of a satyr: bipedal with a furry lower half with a pointed tail we would associate with a devil. she has pawed feet akin to a wolf, with fur crossing up her stomach and chest and down her arms; thick. she also has thick curling horns and furry drooping ears. her skin is a deep brown like the earth but she is dotted with lighter brown spots on the parts of her that are skin. sharp teeth even in this form, and her hair is long and coily—only made manageable by arian’s loving hand. her eyes are a piercing seaglass color with red sclera and glow in the dark. she can also change her height at will, though she’s usually in the 8 foot range as her most comfortable size (and arian definitely didn’t mind). 

her full beast form is basically the mixture of a maned wolf, a clydesdale horse, a buck, and a horned demon. if that makes sense to you. honestly, if you like drawing creatures hit me up and we can like art trade or something bc i’m broke and i can’t visual her very well PFF. either way this form is absolutely MASSIVE and it can mutate depending on the magic she uses—which is very strong.

300 years ago, after the murder of her father, lord renias, evondra consumed him for his power. it allowed her to decimate the invading terranean force to the ground but at the same time completely sapped her magical energy and so she had to retire. she has been in a deep, comatose sleep since then, and thus the labyrinth has been much quieter without the outpour of chaos energy that the demon king brings. but she is now on the brink of awakening, and has spies in Lathsbury to do her bidding; it won’t be long before she discovers a way to topple the kingdom for good—for they must pay for the death of her lover, even if she has to die to avenge him.

intimidating, awesome (in the terrifying god kind of way), and full of malcontent; evondra is as close to a personified force of nature that any semi-mortal being can get. she doesn’t care who she steps on, she doesn’t care who dies, she will not stop until her revenge is had. but… she didn’t always used to be this way. once upon a time, while guarded, she was a curious person. dangerous in her own right, of course, but open to the discovery of things she was unfamiliar with. much of this had to do with her relationship with arian: she didn’t trust him at first of course. but the more she ran into him, the more he charmed her with his songs and his soft demeanor, the more and more she began to look forward to his visits. of anyone who’s ever lived, he learned the most about how the labyrinth worked—and this was all due to evondra’s knowledge and her sharing of it. it is also because of him that evondra even speaks their language—aegean—anyway. he is a beacon of everything worth living for to her, so its no surprise that his untimely death sent her into a tailspin.

[tenjin-no-shinja]

Step 5: Making Offering Plates & Shimenawa

So this step is more optional, in that most folks just buy their own shinki sets, or shimenawa. However, I did originally make my own shinki set (before I bought a proper set at Fushimi Inari). And of course I still use my shimenawa.

Materials Needed

Wood Blocks (really any material, I used some scrap wood from my dad's collection, it turned out to be maple)

Food Safe Wood Oil (you can find like cutting board oil or use mineral oil from a pharmacy)

Hand Chisel

Electric Sander

Hemp Rope (You can substitute this with another natural plant fiber rope... I never bothered to try to do this with plastic rope, and honestly I don't know if if would work the same)

Rice Paper (I actually couldn't find this for easy use, so I substituted it with Chinese calligraphy paper which works just fine)

Clean Exact-O Knife

For the wooden bowls, I just hand chiselled the hell out of them. I had a general idea of how to chisel a concave shape into a block of wood, and then worked from there. Once I had them to the depth that I wanted, I sanded the outside into a nice round shape.

Once I sanded them, I took them outside and seasoned them with food safe wood oil. This helps finish the wood, and keeps it protected.

So I actually wasn't the smartest person, and never actually took any photos or videos of my original process of making the shimenawa, however I do remember what it is that I did.

Measure how several strands of the hemp fiber. Start twisting them together. If you know how to make rope, then you basically just do that. Take several of the twisted strands and group them into larger clumps and twist them together in the opposite direction. This method ensures that they stick together.

Basically like this.

Then you can tie off the ends with another strand. Now the extra step I did, was boil a big pot of water, and then I started dipping the hemp rope into the pot a few times. Once I felt the fibers had been boiled enough, I went and secured them outside with heavy weights, and twisted them extra tight. This ensured that the rope would dry in a tighter pattern and keep the shape more.

I repeated this process maybe 2-3 times. And I made sure I did this during bright warm sunny day so the rope would dry faster. Theoretically if you took a hair dryer and dried it that way it would probably work.

Next I worked on the Shide, these are the white paper lightning shaped streamers you attached to the shimenawa.

Important Notes

Always use a clean exact-o blade, I actually have an exact-o set aside solely for this purpose so it never is used for anything else

If you can try to wear a mask, to avoid breathing directly on the paper

If you crumple, tear, or otherwise mess up the paper when cutting you need to start over

These rules may seem strict, but you have to remember that this is for the kami, so it's important they get nice products. There's plenty of instructions online showing you how to cut the individual shide so I'm not gonna explain that here.

I made 5 of them, due to there being 5 sacred colors, 5 elements, and 5 petals on the shrine crest for Tenmangū.

There are two ways to attach these to the shimenawa, either naturally insert them into the rope and let the tension hold them in place, or use thread and a sewing needle. I've used both methods, and personally prefer using the tension method... but it's a bit more difficult in that if your rope isn't tense enough it won't hold the shide, and requires re-tightening the rope occasionally (I do this once per year usually).

The video below shows me cutting the shide, and attaching them to the rope.

And this is what your finished product will look like :D

Anyways I hope this series of information posts was useful.

INTRO & STEP 1

[quietwingsinthesky]

i wanna draw fanart of even can you describe them please (only if you want me to. uh. shouldbe probably led with "can i draw fanart of even")

oh, of course, that would be delightful. just uh. have to. uhm. know what they look like. uhhhhhhhh.

see this would be easier if even did not keep changing up their style in my head in accordance to who they've most recently interacted with. aslkjalkdjs fun character quirk! nightmare for having a set description for them.

but i guess some things don't change. like, even's about 5'7'' i think i decided? and unless they're in a Very Bad Situation that forces this to change, they're fat. androgynous less in a Neutral way and more in a 'too many confusing signals to figure out what they're suppose to be' way. they usually prefer dark or duller colors to wear. their natural hair color is a wooden brown and without interference, their eyes are, too. (even has bleached their hair before while traveling with the doctor. incorrectly. it came out very strawberry blonde, and they kept it that way until The Horrors.)

uhmm. other things that are pretty consistent with them. post-s4 they keep a fobwatch on them at all times on a chain around their neck. (and the chain itself is messily decorated with poorly soldered on beads from their friendship bracelet that the doctor once made them.) there's also the matter of the missing/replaced body parts from The Horrors, which at the least is a few fingers on their left hand and a scar from that time the master removed their damaged liver to put a new one in, and probably more lmao. sky's the limit on what weird body horror replacements you want to put on them tbh, they're all equally as likely, even's a little messed up. they'll assimilate to the style of who they're traveling with and keep elements of it with them, which is why they end up wearing tennis shoes forever because the doctor did when they were with him the first time and why they end up wearing skirts a lot more often post-missy.

aksdjalsjd honestly whatever flourishes you'd want to make by yourself to add to that, i'd probably just accept into my brain as canon and true.

oh you know what, if it helps, there is one drawing of them out there :3c @lazer-screwdriver made this. it's wonderful. that's my little guy!!!

[mmothmanners]

So I wanted to know a bunch of little things and I hope throwing them all into one ask is alright. As always, answer what you can/want and I will eat it up!

What’s Ris’ favorite color?

Does he have a favorite song to play or does he go based on vibe?

Does he like his hair being played with and does he like playing with other people’s hair if they’re just chilling side by side?

Opinions on jewelry and favorite stone to wear? (Funnily enough, he and my Tav have the same earring set.)

Cats, dogs or both?

(This is one can be skipped over without a second thought.) Sexuality? Any specifics to it? And would he be open to a polycule?

If he had to dye his hair two colors, what would they be?

Favorite traits in a potential friend? Most disliked traits?

Does he like sweets? If so, does he prefer them to be baked or no?

Does he have any hobbies?

Is he a sit-down violinist or does he Lindsey Sterling his performances?

I will always have more little questions if you enjoy silly bits. I’m always interested in every detail someone can provide in a character so please bear with me!!

And to just share a thought of mine, I’ve already absentmindedly headcanoned my Tav and him as friends and them playing Fairytale by Alexander Rybak as a fun little ditty. Or something like that song if not Fairytale specifically. But I thought it’d be neat with them both preferring violin and all. (Though, Talanova ends up playing something else when I think about them performing together.)

Heck yes! Alright I can answer all these (after a billion years of sitting on them):

What’s Ris’ favorite color? Contrary to his wardrobe… His favourite colour is blue. Because it is the prominent colour of two incredible things he only saw after leaving the Underdark: The Sky and the Ocean. He waxes a lot of poetry about them.

Does he have a favorite song to play or does he go based on vibe? He plays based on vibes and energy given back to him. But he often loves singing older songs in Undercommon he learned back in the Underdark. Often haunting and melancholic (though he saves those songs for when he's alone and away from others).

Does he like his hair being played with and does he like playing with other people’s hair if they’re just chilling side by side? Oh yes. He's very tactile in both his own affections and open to receiving it from others. It makes him exceptionally content and connected as it was something of a novel concept until quite recently (post Underdark).

Opinions on jewelry and favorite stone to wear? (Funnily enough, he and my Tav have the same earring set.) He adores being bejewelled. Probably remnants of his old life but the aesthetic truly sates a desire to look good. His favourite gem stones are rubies.

Cats, dogs or both? All. All animals. He loves them all because they tend to love him in return (dogs especially).

Sexuality? Any specifics to it? And would he be open to a polycule? Pansexual! Absolutely finds beauty and attraction to all folks - as for a polycule, it would have to be some very special folk that he feels a deep connection to. Honestly he's very single minded (usually) when it comes to love. But again, he wouldn't outright oppose it.

If he had to dye his hair two colors, what would they be? Hrmm. He likes White & Black - keep the natural and add something completely opposite of it.

Favorite traits in a potential friend? Most disliked traits? He loves a great sense of humour in another. Also the type of person who will turn to you without missing a beat after you teasingly say 'i might murder x for being a clown' and then say 'i'll bring the shovel to help you hide them'. As for disliked traits… Pretty standard things but especially someone who has no love for music.

Does he like sweets? If so, does he prefer them to be baked or no? Yes. He loves all food. He's like a vacuous void of hunger but especially for sweets.

Does he have any hobbies? Poetry writing, Song composition, classic ballroom dancing… He also adores archery and fencing. He was raised pretty typically with noble hobbies and lessons drilled into him. Luckily he found love in all of them.

Is he a sit-down violinist or does he Lindsey Sterling his performances?

Definitely Lindsay Sterling. He just gotta move with his music.

[winxngasks]

🌸 Terra, daughter of Flora and Helia, Fairy of Flowers 🌸

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And next up, we have Terra! Honestly had a little difficulty trying to figure out her style, but I think I found a good one for her. I hope you enjoy!

More details about her looks can be found under the 'readmore'!

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. For Terra, she has chin-length and wavy hair that is naturally a brownish, dirty blonde color, but she has dyed it an all-over rose gold color. Does not mind wearing makeup, but wears it lightly most of the time, usually in soft, pastel shades. For a physical detail I wanted to highlight, it would be that her ears are pierced.

. For color scheme, she prefers wearing soft and light colors, with pinks, greens, and blues making up most of her clothes, but she does dabble in other colors at times. A big lover of floral patterns and embroidery, with very few solid-color pieces. Prefers more of a light and 'breezy' style that is perfect for spring and summer days, with modest crop-tops, shorts, and short summer dresses. Like her mom, she also enjoys corset-style tops and puff sleeves.

. Enjoys wearing accessories, with all containing floral or butterfly motifs. A lot of them are homemade and made with her parents and siblings, which she enjoys the most as it is a fun bonding activity for her. The main accessory I chose to give her here is a pink flower crown, with flower crowns being her main favorite accessory and a callback to her her status as the "Fairy of Flowers".

[demonsfate]

When Reina was first revealed for T8, a 4chan user once described her design as "safe". And honestly, it's still the best way to describe it. Reina was designed to be safe, to obviously appeal to the masses. Therefore, she's gotta look trendy but not be a trendsetter, y'know? For the reasons I already explained lol. That's why her devil design couldn't necessarily match the aesthetics of the other devils, too. Because they had to make her look soft and feminine. Like I said, Reina is allowed to be tomboyish and cruel, but she still has to be cute in the end. It's also why she has to be younger than her nephew despite being the daughter of a 73 year old lmao.

And yeah, almost every character was supposed to have a relatively normal appearance! I mean, most of these characters are dressed in simple karate outfits, or leather / denim. The only ones with the craziest hairs are the Mishimas or Paul. Yoshimitsu and the bears (not pictured( are the only ones who are really out there. Jack may be a robot, but he used to look relatively normal too save for the red eyes. King is just a luchador. And even the Mishimas, their hair really only sticks up in one direction. Even the characters who did have more unrealistic hair or colors (Lee and Bryan having silver hair) the characters hairs and clothing styles were still simple.

TK6 is where the designs started becoming more complex and unrealistic. Lars & Alisa were once (and still are) heavily criticized for their "too anime" designs, Lars' hair being a little too wild and Alisa resembling a magical girl. This criticism is usually met with "but Tek was ALWAYS anime-" but like... there is evidence to show that they indeed made these more "anime" than they could've. I mean, look at ALL of Alisa's concept art, for example.

Even with her more robotic designs, you can still see where she still resembled a more Normal Girl. Her hair being natural colors, sometimes being dressed in more natural, simplistic outfits.

Then somewhere along the line, for some reason, they decided they wanted to do a more unique and colorful look - hence, it appearing more "anime." Alisa's clothes no longer look as realistic as her dresses or button up shirts in the concept art. It now looks more whimsical, or "magical girl" like. Alisa's concept arts made her look more like a Russian than her final design does imo.

I'm not saying this particular designs is bad, but I am pointing out how they are indeed different from what Tek's designs were like in the TK1-TK4 (even TK5) era. This was the start of the series wanting to move on to more complicated fantasy like designs. And imo? I prefer the more grounded-ness of the early TK games. Yes, they've had demons and angels and bears and space ninjas(?) but the zany parts didn't apply to everyone or everything in the world, y'know?

And yes, you can indeed get plenty of cool things out of keeping things simple! 😌 Like there's no reason Jin has to have 12 pockets on his outfit. There's no reason why he couldn't have had a normal tee (or muscle shirt) underneath his jacket and why it has to be this shirt with all these decals, holes, and weird v-neck shape on it. Like that really does feel like they're just throwing on details for the hell of it, because they sincerely believe a plain gray tee would look too "basic" for a next gen game.

Like in TK4, Jin was just wearing a normal black tank top underneath his hoodie. Although we never saw him without the hoodie, it's quite evident that it's just a normal shirt with no extra designs on it. And to this day, most people still say TK4 was Jin's best design. So it shows that you can indeed impress with less.

Of course, there are people who may prefer the very creative designs, the characters wearing 4+ layers. And that's fine! Different strokes for different folks! But I just personally prefer the simpler, toned down designs. I think they were easier on the eyes, they didn't feel as try-hard, and in a way, it kinda felt like Tek had more of a specific style back then? If that makes sense.